Thursday, September 22, 2005

The Sons of Noah

One of Jack’s very favourite books is a version of Noah’s Ark in which there are four wooden animals which can be placed onto the pages at appropriate points. It’s a really colourful, cartoon book and a good re-telling of the old Bible classic.

Jack loves the animals. “Aminals” of all sorts are very exciting and he can now reel off every pair, from kangaroooooos to toucans, spiders to rhinos.

Yesterday we got to the last page where Noah and his family are looking at the rainbow spreading out over the soggy land.

“Who’s that?” asks Jack. He often does this, even when he knows the answer.

“That’s Noah” I say.

“Who’s that?” says Jack.

“That’s Mrs Noah. Noah’s wife.”

“Who’s that?” he says, pointing to a bearded man next to Noah.

“That’s one of Noah’s sons” I say.

“What’s he called?” Jack asks.

“I don’t know" I confess, rattled, "he’s just one of Noah’s sons.”

“What’s he called?” Jack insists. Dads are supposed to know everything.

I don’t like letting the little fella down this early on in my dad-hood. So straight away I get on the phone to my mum, Jack’s grandma, who way back in the mists of time, did a degree in Theology.

“What are Noah’s sons called?”

Oh dear. She doesn’t know. Then in the background, I hear her ask the same question to her husband, my dad.

Quick as a flash he comes back with “Ham, Shem and Japheth”.

"Brilliant. Thanks Mum, thanks Dad."

See. Dads do know everything. Or at least, mine does. He can take apart a car engine and put it back together, plumb in a washing machine, plaster a wall, understand calculus, history, literature, find anywhere in Britain without a map…. and he always, always beats me at Trivial Pursuit.

A couple of minutes have passed but Jack is still on the same page. “That’s Ham and that’s Shem.” I tell him.

“Ham and Shem” Jack says, totally satisfied.

Phew. I’ve passed the dad test this time. But I’ve still got a LOT to learn.


Incidentally, how cool is this? The Brick Testament

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Take Your Head Off

Jack has invented a new joke. In the bath, or sometimes when I am carrying him, he'll suddenly put his hands around my neck, pull upwards and say: "Take your head off!" I tell him it doesn't come off and he tells me the same thing again: "Take your head off!"

The first time he did this it was such a strange idea I found it hilarious. Consequently it has become a running gag and we both find it very funny.

Sometimes he's only after a digit: "Take your finger off!" he says, pulling it hard enough to hurt.

I note it here not because it's cute child behaviour, but because I wonder where on earth he got the idea from. It's really quite marcabre, when you think about it. Tim Burton stuff. And this from a boy who cries when Pingu gets lost in the snow!

Anyone else out there had requests for decapitation?